Cozenage
by Biocide
Summary: Someone has infiltrated Autobot outposts, including a main security center. Now the spy has gotten the coordinates of Earth-and is coming for them. What will the mysterious espionage professional do with intel that could change peace, into destruction.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey people... This is what I wrote since I couldn't write anything for Forgotten... or anything else. Anyways, it's been like... cripes, last year. I've been dead. But I've been trying to write some Transformer stories, when I really should try to do my Forgotten bits again. Sigh.**

**Anyways, this is just a fun story for me to write, and it's supposed to be about 30k so I'm happy about that. Not just the number, but I have managed to dwindle things down until I can actually end a story! First time in history! Of course, some things are still being written, but I've got pretty much everything written. But uh... yeah just something for my strangler readers still hanging on. I'm so sorry people, please forgive me.**

**On the other note, I've been trying to write other things, and I have another Transformers fanfic in the process of being written, as well as ANOTHER one being thought out and experimented. Yeah, obsessed with Transformers. On the OTHER note- not many people are updating either, so eh. Can't be helped. Except for Lunar Mist. You rock. PS: Made a skull cake- it looked like it was decaying! ITS SO AWESOME!**

**Alright, guess I should get going. Throat hurts, blech.**

**PS: I wrote this part months ago, so yeah I forget what happens. Havent been feeling good but hopefully that won't affect the story or my other writings. Anyone want to see more Transformer fanfics from me? Yes, I will get back to Forgotten soon and will probably start all over again like I've been planning on doing.**

**I felt that Bluestreak needed more love, hopefully I've written him well.**

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_**::We are here, we are waiting.::**_

_**DESTINATION: 40:8265;675**_

_**LOCATION TAKEN AT: 89:6475;72-1**_

_**ESTIMATED TIME TILL IMPACT: 82:43:26…25…24**_

_April 26th, 2010._

_2:13:56_

A moan lifted up from parted lips, telling the torture the owner was enduring. "Almost the end of April and _still_ no rain." It was true. Since the small amount of snow had melted from the past winter, there had not been a rain shower broadcasted nor hinted in the entire region. The average of 96 degrees in the hot and humid air of the island base had not been merciful for human nor machine. Vehicles broken down within the past week were either still in shops or cautiously driven in the inactive cities across the waters, most not wanting to get out of the A/C cooled buildings to do their daily duties. Even on the island of Diego Garcia the sea was breathless, desperate for air as not a breeze helped the situation. The heavy air threatened to overheat most of the hardworking soldiers at a local military base that captured all of the island, but unfortunately their god did not install an internal cooling system like of those recently discovered and allied.

Over a hundred years ago, the first of many were discovered. Frozen and enclosed in a hulk of ice, the bulk of an alien species was discovered in the lands of Antarctica. Trapped in the boulder of ice, was none other than the treacherous leader of the Decepticons, a faction of the alien race humans would soon be allied with and against in the years to come. Hundreds of years was not a long wait, however, when the outcomes were great. As it turns out, the power of the alien race, the AllSpark, had landed on the human populated planet of Earth. It was the life force for this mysterious mechanical race, which brought and took away life when it was time. In it, it was believed that all the 'souls' of the mechanical race were pooled, where they would spend the rest of their times in peace within their 'mother', their ultimate creator.

Years after the first was discovered and kept frozen in a top secret US military facility, more, enemies and allies alike, had come to reclaim their missing artifact. Fights ensued before and after Megatron was thawed out, and more will follow as long as one faction existed in the universe. Thankfully for the humans, the other faction, the Autobots, had came before much trouble could be brought upon the planet. They fought for all sentient beings of the universe, wishing for all life to live while they fought the Decepticons, who only wanted to bring life back to their home planet and nothing else. They would crush every other species of life for the AllSpark, in order to bring the life back to their planet, while the Autobots fought for the same ultimate purpose, but striving for the other sentient beings to still exist.

Thankfully and unfortunately, their battles settled on the little dirt planet called Earth. Unknown to nearly all of the human race, they are kept to secrecy, hoping not to bring any more innocent life into their alien war.

Humans, whether they like it or not, fight alongside the Autobots for the existence of their race. Most do not want anything to do with the mechanical beings, but have little options otherwise. Others have grown to tolerate, or if you are special, befriend the friendly aliens.

Years ago a high school boy was discovered by both Decepticons and Autobots alike, withholding some information indirectly leading to the location of their precious AllSpark. He, upon receiving his first car who was an Autobot in hiding, had his fate sealed the moment he tried to sell his great grandfather's glasses on eBay. You see, the grandfather was one of those who had discovered the frozen Decepticon leader generations before, and his glasses contained information of the AllSpark from having a sliver of it trapped in its casings. His name is Samuel Witwicky. Not much longer, his girlfriend, Mickaela Banes, was brought into the war as well. After years of going to college, one side striving for a semi-normal life while the other enthralled in the strange experiences, and living with the alien beings, they now visited their Autobot friends on the island of Diego Garcia.

Mikaela, fanning her face with a hand as the sun tried to penetrate through the building that brought them slight relief, cursed the sun and whoever was sick enough to think that they deserved it. Sam sat near her on the cooler tiled floors, nodding breathlessly in agreement. His curly hair was matted to his head with sweat, as her own hair stuck to her neck despite the high ponytail she had wrestled it into hours before.

Across the room the Autobot medic, Ratchet, sighed again, muttering about the inferior designs of humans with the lack of an internal cooling system. Though he was sworn by the code of protecting the organic beings, even he had a limit of how long he could go without cursing some of their flaws. They felt too much, their emotions ran wild, and they complained. A _lot._

The heat had been boiling down on the heat defenseless island for weeks, since the last of their 'winter' had dwindled away as the sun evaporated any trace of snow with the unexpected heatwave. Last week the temperatures had escalated into the hundreds, resulting in countless of dehydrated humans falling victim to heatstroke and other minor cases of simply fainting. At another complaint across the room, he threw down a wrench. His own cooling systems were having trouble keeping up with the merciless heat.

"Alright, that's enough! Go complain on your own time and get your afts outta my bay!" His optics pierced the group of sweating humans, making them look uneasy and quickly do as he ordered, not wanting one of those wrenches thrown their way. The two other humans directly behind him merely looked on, too exhausted to neither complain nor comply. He scrutinized them with his narrowed optics, a scowl etched on his faceplates. Sam tried for a goofy grin, hoping to get on the grouchy medic's good side without success, and only managed a tired lopsided grin.

"Come on Ratchet, we can't help it." The older medic grunted, folding his armored arms across his chassis.

"Then I guess you'd rather stay here in the 'too hot' and 'muggy' medbay while you could be in the lower levels that still contain air conditioning." He tilted his head at 'too hot' and 'muggy' mockingly, raising an optic ridge when the two barely matured adults perked up and scooted out of the medical bay faster than thought possible, shouting a 'thanks Ratchet!' over their shoulders. He shook his mighty head with a gruff laugh, turning back to his medical berth to tweak with his current project, muttering to himself once more.

The heat had been tinkering with the human machines that brought cooled air through the vents; the generators threaten to overheat in midday. It was hazardous to the organics' health, and it only made the mechanic beings crankier than normal whenever their organic counterparts complained or sloppily got in their way. But the heat had started effecting the mechs as well, yesterday Ironhide's systems threatened to overheat when he was off on a rage. Now he has orders to be kept to the lower parts of the base, the restricted yet cooler areas, in order to lessen the threat. Now, it only made his temper rise with the restrictions, but now the humidity cannot clog up his systems as much.

Ratchet had been throwing wrenches much more, the short tempered but normally reasonable medic being pepper sprayed with the victims of heat, and those who could move quickly learned to try and keep their fluid levels up to resist direct contact with the contradicting medic. Ironhide's own temper had shorted dramatically until the fuse was but an inch long, barely able to stand those who travel around the base each and everyday, forcing those in his path to prance away from his heavy feet like deer. The normal overly friendly, talkative, human-loving Bumblebee needs his down time, though tries his best to help his friends, human and Autobot alike. Even Optimus, under mountains and mountains of paperwork and duties, has been affected by the heat. Though he can handle great amounts of stress, even he has a limit.

Said leader was sitting at his desk, trying desperately not to allow his thoughts to lead to the darker side, trying to steady his tightening hands as he listened to the droning politician. The same man was sitting on Prime's desk near the stairs leading to the ground floor, dabbing at his shining bare crown as he fought to regain his breath after each taken. His voice was airy, breathless in the humid air of the Autobot leader's office.

The tall and proud leader of the Autobots, who has fought battle upon battle against their foes who took up the name Decepticons, was currently having a battle with himself as he struggled to contain his distain with the monotone but shaky visitor. He knew what the man was talking about, even knew the outcome of the proposal, the text, the answer, the results and reactions. The pudgy man stuck dressed in the uniformed suit was trying to persuade, like many before him, to have Optimus loan the humans some of their Cybertronian technology and weapons. Optimus knew that the younger species would only use it for destruction and not the defense like they promised they would. With power came greed, and both would bring upon destruction of their little green planet.

The humans, so young and naïve, would only challenge the other nations across waters, to get them to attack first before going on the offensive. He was not blind to their greedy ways, how they starved for power as his race did many millennia ago. They would fight, war upon war, until the single nation overtook the entire planet, before beginning the start of their take over in the universe. Only to be pushed down.

They have not been the first race to be like this, neither has his own, and they certainly are not the only species in the universe with this nature. Though the short-lived species of Earth, the humans, were so much more complex than what he had imagined. Their feelings, emotions, thoughts; they all had to be enormous to make up for their short life spans. Which brought upon unreasonable thinking, which brought upon more destruction. He could see that the more they pressed and came up with new leaders who were like them, that the only last result would be destruction for them and their planet.

He held up a mighty hand, a human gesture he picked up when they heeded silence, tired at the constant bothering on the single topic.

"Thank you Mr. Kophler, but my answer stays the same. Our technology will not be shared." _Our__weaponry__will__not__be__used__for__more__destruction._ The reaction, he knew and saw, was the same as the last. The pudgy man's face contorted into one that looked almost pained, 'constipated' the charge Samuel Witwicky commented once, before he huffed and angrily left for the stairs, disappearing from view. After what felt like too long, the man finally left the Autobot leader's office through the human sized door.

Prime's vents cycled heavily as soon as the reassuring 'click' of the door was amplified with the angered exit. He felt his body relax, his shoulder slumping as he clumsily brought up a hefty hand to rub at his helm and faceplates. This scene, this… structure, was never to be seen by one of his own, much less the smaller beings themselves. This was the look of a defeated leader, one that he was not. He was tired, the heat getting to him as well despite the caution he had placed within the last few months. He was stressed and exhausted and, for the first time in a while, wished that someone else had his place and he was just another ignorant soldier under their command, blindly following leaders without the guilt and complicity that came with being a leader.

All too late he cursed the thought, reeling it back into the small box he had chained up and kept hidden in the basements of his mind.

He was leader; his soldiers and friends looked up to him and expected him to make the best of decisions. They were his responsibility, and he would make sure that he kept them safe and alive. No one else could do the work of a prime but another prime himself, nor did he expect anyone else to. He had taken up the role, no matter how reluctant he was in the beginning, so naïve to the rules of war, and he would not back down if it meant having his spark fade for the second and last time.

A small knock from a human made him regain his composure, feeling the wires in his shoulders and arms tighten as he prepared for yet another politician to try and get him to agree to their terms. Already he had to go head to head against Galloway whenever he 'visited', and now more and more of his lackeys are trying to persuade the Autobot leader that he had no choice but to prepare for the worse that the humans could do, short for them completely cutting them off and forcing them off their planet. Optimus knew that they were required to stay on the green and blue planet with the threat of lingering Decepticons, but he doubted that the humans would see it the same way, if not a scratch. _No,_ he shook his head. _The__heat__is__getting__to__you.__The__humans__understand__enough__to__know__that__the__Decepticons__would__take__them__over__if__given__the__chance._

Not only the heat, but the stress. The stress of lingering Decepticons, the fact that his allies were scattered amongst the universe with only the dim hope of getting to their new home safely, and the fact that their entire existence was surely to diminish after a matter of time. Despite the fact that they live to be thousands of years old, their existence would be terminated with the lack of the AllSpark. His mind was brought back to when it was destroyed, thrusted into the spark of his brother, Megatron, leader of the Decepticons. It was a shame that his brother was tainted with the greed of power, and the indifference to other species. Their ultimate goals were the same, to bring life back to their home of Cybertron, but the process was too different to negotiate.

"Having a bad day, chief?" His mind was brought back to the present, his optics landing on the familiar, and relieving, form of William Lennox. Despite the situation and how the past few years have been, the Autobot leader managed to give a chuckle.

"If only, my friend. What can I do for you?" Over the past few years, since the beginning of it all on this planet, the friendship of human and Autobot has grown between certain people, Lennox being one of the special few. Will's face fell a bit, growing grim, alerting the mechanical being that the news would not be as pleasant as he would have liked.

"Barricade has been sighted in Oregon, Washington, and Idaho within the past three weeks. We believe that he's in Nevada now." A Decepticon on the move was never good news, whether it was to try and get back under the Autobot radar or planning an attack on the humans to get under the government's skin. But leaving the confines of California was suspicious. Even more so was coming within the state of one of the Autobot bases, was the Decepticon wanting something? A fight perhaps, or was he taunting his enemies and challenging them. Optimus' face turned down even more, wondering just what the strangler was planning. With a hefty sigh, he stood from where he sat, holding a flat hand down to his human friend as he rounded his desk. Will quickly hopped on before Optimus walked towards the door, used to being carried whenever the Autobots wanted to get somewhere fast.

He walked the halls, exhausted soldiers lazily getting out of his way before they could get trampled, though all knew that Optimus wouldn't allow such a thing even with the threat of the heat overpowering everyone.

As he went to gather intel and relay the information to those going on the mission and staying to guard the base, he thought he felt a small ominous feeling bubble in the back of his mind, whispering secrets and questions untold.


	2. Chapter 2

__**Author's Note: Hey guys. I understand that the first chapter wasn't too impressive, and maybe sometime in the future I will go back and edit it so it's more entertaining, but you know I've bnever been too good with beginnings. Anyways, for some reason some of the sentences in this chapter had been space-less so I went in and fixed it before publishing it here at school. Thank you Career Investigations. Anyhoo hope this one is a bit more entertaining, but keep in mind that this was just a little doodad that I wrote up while getting ideas for my other works. But still, hope that this story is decent. Enjoy :P**

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_**DESTINATION: 40:8265;675**_

_**LOCATION TAKEN AT: 73:8473;236**_

_**ESTIMATED TIME TILL IMPACT: 76:43:23…22…21**_

It had taken nearly seven hours, but they finally found the Decepticon.

An explosion shook the earth; glass rattling in their fragile frames as government officials desperately tried sealing off the section of the city so no civilian casualties would be taken with the fighting taking place in downtown Manti, Utah.

Bullets of energon struck buildings and roads, thick metal feet upturned abandoned vehicles as mighty beings fought, as tall as the buildings themselves. Hands grappled for purchase, one threw the other into the town's square fountain, red optics glowing menacingly before the being got tackled, face grating against the bricked sidewalk. Cracked and crumbled blocks flew as the metal helm slid to a stop, limbs and units restrained by two other beings, both smaller in size.

They were quickly thrown off, the Decepticon rearing on them and punching the bright yellow Bumblebee in the jaw, sending him toppling away. He had more trouble with the Autobot Weapons Specialist, though, when said bot slagged him in the gut, sending him into a streetlamp. It bent under his weight, the rusted bolts giving as he spun, regaining his balance to send a foot into Ironhide's side. The Autobot leapt away, bringing his arm up as his cannons appeared, only for it to be knocked away by the police car. Ironhide grabbed the con's incoming fist, twisting it as he shoved his cannon in Barricade's leg and fired, the energon burning away at the metal and wires.

Barricade let out a stream of curses encoded in Cybertronian, his red optics flaring with life and rage. Though his leg was damaged, it made no difference as he swung it around, contacting it to the side of Bumblebee's head as he tried sneaking up on the con.

When they had first came across the rouge, he had immediately transformed in the town's square. The Autobots were forced to reveal themselves to the panicking public, to keep Barricade from harming any of the humans. Barricade had resorted to fighting dirty, grabbing a young boy who screamed and struggled, unable to escape the clawed hand that wrapped tightly around him. Optimus ordered him to stand down, to let the boy go, but of course the con hadn't listened. He was not his leader. Bumblebee had snuck up behind him and tackled him, reaching for the boy. But by the time Barricade allowed to let the boy go, the screaming had ceased.

Grief struck the Autobots, fueling Ironhide's rage. The limp and lifeless body of the eight year old now lay on the sidewalk, looking to be asleep.

The Decepticon roared, snarling threats as he clicked and whirled in his native language, cursing out his enemies as they tacked and pinned him, immobilizing his unit as it dug into the brick covered ground. His shoulders jerked as he tried throwing off his attackers, throwing his head up when a giant foot entered his vision range, snarling up at the Autobot leader as he towered over him.

"What is the meaning of this, _Prime?__"_ He spat, ruby red eyes glinting murderously. The Autobot leader paid no heed to the scavenger's threats and spats; instead he kept his demeanor and handled the con easily.

"Why are you running?" His calm, cool demeanor did nothing but agitate the rouge 'con more, despite the fact that Optimus had no thought of offlining the 'con unless if he did not cooperate. In response, the 'con growled.

"I do not run from _scum_ like you!" The setting sun's rays glinted off of the 'con's teeth, still sharpened to perfect little points in his mouth, daring someone to get close enough to bite. His chassis rose and fell harshly, not in exhaustion but in pure rage of the Autobot presence, his hate burning deep within his energon filled veins. The one on his back, pinning him to the disgusting organic made rock, pressed down deeper, his cannons charged and ready. He had always hated the Weapons Specialist, always hated him.

"Then why ya running like a sparkling looking for its blankie?" Ironhide sneered, making Barricade buck as he tried to get away, to get his claws on the Weapons Specialist's face and tear his optics out. Despite the plain mockery of it all, it made Optimus realize something. Barricade wasn't simply getting further away from California and the second Autobot base all together, he was searching. Within three weeks he could've been on the East coast, or perhaps the center of Mexico if he wished. Instead, he had stayed close to California, going from state to state in a vertical pattern. He wasn't running, he really _was_ searching. When the Decepticon dodged the insult with his own, it only made it seem more obvious.

"Get the Pit away from me you slagger, go cry to your organics." He spat, jerking his shoulders, Bumblebee's hands getting knocked off, allowing him the chance to gain an advantage and throw the shorter Autobots off of him. With a roar that hinted his triumph, he leapt to his feet, shouldering past Optimus, wanting a fight. Instead of keeping the shorter Decepticon where he was in the middle of the triangle, the Autobot leader turned to the side, allowing Barricade to storm past. Barricade was an admirable opponent, whose strength and intelligence was heard from each edge of the universe. Before the AllSpark's destruction, whispers were given to sparklings before they went to their berths; keeping them there with the fear that 'Barricade the destroyer' would be lurking in the shadows or under their berths. But now he proved to be of another use.

Optimus watched the ex-con storm off, wondering if it was going against his code to use someone, even one that could be called a neutral, for something that is considered scheming or conniving. But as he watched Barricade, cursing all of Autobots and calling his allies weaklings, he was reassured at the sight of the small blinking light on the back of the con's shoulder.

Ironhide walked up, glaring as the retreating Decepticon transformed and drove off, quickly escaping Autobot sight. He growled, the small squeal of metal told of his fist curling.

"I hope you're right, Prime." He crossed his arms, fists tight as his optics narrowed. "But remember, if it fails then _I_ get to offline the slagger." Optimus put a hand on his friend's shoulder, forcing a reassuring look. Ironhide demeanor didn't change, making Optimus look attentively at the Weapons Specialist. "Something isn't right." Optimus looked in the direction Barricade sped off in. Of course; Barricade had given up much too quickly. He was looking for something; that much was obvious. But to retreat without trying to kill an Autobot, no matter the odds, pricked at Prime's processor. Decepticons are known to be sneaky, and deceptive, as in their name, but they are not known to surrender unless if odds were against them in life or death situations. No, Barricade was searching for something, and it was important.

His optics flickered to the abandoned body across the square, grief striking him. Another human life, lost to their war. He should've been faster, he should've prevented this. Barricade could have been driven from the city like planned, away from the humans so that they would not be harmed. But alas, a life, a young one at that, had been taken much too soon. Optimus gazed at the boy, wondering who he was, what his family is like, what his future had held before being robbed of it.

His fists clenched; an uncharacteristic trait for him. No, the boy's death would not be in vain.

_**::Prime.::**_

He sighed aggravatedly, casting out his frustration before tuning into the internal communication channel that hailed him. He sent a click, telling the caller that he was listening.

_**::Prowl is nearing the human galaxy. He shall be here within two orbital cycles.::**_

The news shined some light on the situation. He had contacted the security commander when he had learned of the situation with Barricade. Thankful that he had started out straight away, his knowledge will help figure out Barricade's motives.

_**::Give him the coordinates and ensure the humans that he is Autobot. We shall rendezvous back at the base until it is time.::**_

_**::Understood Optimus. Ratchet out.::**_

_**- ... ... ... ...**_

_**DESTINATION: 40:8265;675**_

_**LOCATION TAKEN AT: 52:6008;586**_

_**ESTIMATED TIME TILL IMPACT: 23:58:16…15…14**_

"_The __base __has __been __breached. __We __do __not __know __who, __but __it __was __an __individual. __And __they __knew __their __stuff.__" _The grim face of one of the lower branched leaders in the Autobot faction made up the oversized screen. His voice was tired, weary, but serious as the message played.

So far away from the human planet, communications had to be passed from base to base in order to communicate. Said transfers could take up from days to mere hours, but even then it could've been too late. As such, said message told of the unfortunate events that could've been prevented. As it turns out, an unknown enemy had breached an outpost on the edge of galaxy 8276, and had hacked into their systems within five Earth minutes. The older general sighed, rubbing at his faceplates with his four fingered hand, as if doing so would make the report easier.

"_They stole it all, sir."_

The base was used as a small information storage unit, disguised as a traffic outpost. The traffic they monitored was how many Decepticons had been spotted and what their movements were, as well as any stragglers that had caused up trouble or drifted on by. Neutrals were a minority, briefly documented. The Autobot faction held very little information on Autobot movements, in fear of an invasion. The fear was logical, as it had finally happened.

"_Every __recorded __Decepticon __movement, __every __recorded __neutral __that __had __passed __through,__" _His optics dimmed, a scowl marring his features as he whipped his server down in anger. _"__Vital __information __of __the __war that had been locked up nice and tight.__"_ Dread was brought on with the next sentence, one that brought even Optimus anger. _"__The __location __of__ '__Earth__'__.__"_

The rest of the message was drowned out as Optimus slammed his fist onto the desk, the dent only expressing a fraction of his anger and worry.

Twenty-two hours ago Prowl had landed miles from their Nevada base, and since then the Autobots had not heard of any sightings from Barricade yet they came up with numerous theories as of what he was searching for. Pieces of the AllSpark, information on the Autobots, location of their base, how far their defenses stretched, what areas they were focused on, location of other Decepticons he was in contact with. The list was endless, and with each idea came with consequences. The message that had been transmitted had taken place nearly ninety hours ago. The delivery unit was damaged, most likely from being knocked into a random asteroid than worse possibilities, which hindered the arrival time which would have normally had taken less than twenty hours.

Optimus wasn't the only one upset; a knife could cut through the air like butter.

"Why in the Pit did they even _have_ that?" Ironhide roared, throwing his arms around in his fit of anger. Bumblebee gripped his helm, clicking and whirling at a frantic pace as he worried about what would happen to his human charges and friends. Ratchet was leaning against the wall, arms folded as he scowled, deep in thought.

Calm blue optics watched it all, calculating.

"We need to keep a watch- if Earth's coordinates are leaked then we need to be on high alert for any incoming Decepticons." Optimus ordered, voice on edge as he forced himself to calm down. He had to keep it together; it was possible that he would be leading his Autobots into yet another war.

"But our systems can only pick up any incomings within 15,000 miles from Earth." Ratchet spoke up for the first time since the message started playing, looking up at Optimus. "Even if we do pick them up, who knows where they would land. Depending on the location, it'd take us hours before we'd get there."

"And they would already be gone." Ironhide growled, clenching his fists tighter until the wires in his knuckles threatened to snap. Optimus looked at the two, before looking back at the screen where the message had stopped, the frozen image of the regretful officer looking into the camera staring back at him. Prowl held his hands behind his back, calm blue optics landing on the screen as he stopped, moving so that he was facing the screen in one quick military drilled movement.

"Where are Barricade's whereabouts now?" Ratchet moved and typed it into the computer, frowning as he gazed into the monitor.

"New Mexico." The older medic reported; glancing back at Prowl, then up at Optimus. "The Pit is he doing there?" Ironhide grabbed a fist, rubbing it with his palm aggressively.

"I say we give the dented helm another visit. What do you say, Prime?" All optics turned to the Autobot leader. He stared at the screen, watching the zoomed up map, the small blinking dot slowly moving. He vented his vents, a thousand burdens on his shoulders. He nodded.

... ... ... ... ... ... ...

_**::Starscream, the scout is heading to earth now. She will be there within twenty four Earth hours.::**_

_**::Blast it all Thundercracker! I deliberately told her to be here two orbital cycles ago! What in the Pit has she been doing for the past solar cycle? I'll have her dismantled! Have Dirge meet her at the landing site! She shall pay for her disobedience!::**_

_Primus help her… And let her be in one piece with that accident-prone dimwit around!_

_... ... ... ... ... ... _

Barricade had proved to be unwilling to cooperate, avoiding direct approaches and answering their questions with Cybertronian curses and threats. He had managed to get away after barely twenty minutes, the Decepticon sparking in one leg while having dealt damage to the hot-headed Weapons Specialist.

_**::Optimus:: **_

The sudden hailing of a frequency interrupted Prime's thoughts, the calm and collected voice edged with urgency. Turning away, he placed a hand to his audio receptor as the security chief continued without waiting for a response.

_**::Reports have been streaming in. Even more bases have been infiltrated within the past 72 hours, all being shipped through damaged receivers. But luckily footage had been recorded on one of the vessels. I'm currently decoding it as we speak, but I fear that whoever had gotten a hold of the information of Earth did not keep their vocal processors on mute.::**_

Looking down at the data pads that crowded his desk, he sighed and stood.

_**::I'll be right there, Prowl::**_

_**... ... ...**_

They watched as the transmission pod launched, and when it was just out of sight of the base, a Cybertronian became visible and latched onto the pod. The screen fizzled as the figure whacked it a few times with its hand, before her face became visible within the camera's range. Her face casted shadows, but the watching Autobots got a good guess on what she looked like as she checked a panel on her arm. She had three prongs that enveloped her face, one on each cheek and a bigger one on the top of her head, all coming down in downturned sharp points. Then she had some kibble on the back of her head in two layers. Her armor was the standard gray color of Cybertronian. Her mouth didn't open within the length of the footage, making it unknown if she was a Decepticon by looks or not, but her eyes glowed a fuchsia color.

Her expression was near nonexistent, completely serious as she clicked in a few things on the screen, a faint voice being heard within the deafening silence of space. She didn't reply, merely shut off the panel with force, not waiting for it to completely disappear back into her forearm armor. Using the pod for leverage as she activated her boosters and disappeared in the dark depths of the universe, following the course the damaged pod would be taking.

The footage was paused when the femme was almost out of sight, the only thing that could be seen of her were the light from her boosters on her feet.

"Prowl can you play it back when the femme received the message?" Optimus knew the security commander could, his eyes glued to the screen as said bot did as his leader asked. The footage rewound, until it played the part where the femme was looking at the screen as the message played, the voice muffled but distinctively aggressive. Blue optics didn't waver from the femme's own as his old comrade attempted to focus in on the voice, amplify it, and make it clear. He didn't look away as the femme's picture was shrunken, and a box with a line going across the black filled up the other half of the screen. The footage rewound again and played the message, the green line jumping up and down as an all too familiar voice cut through the computer's speakers; a scowl etched on the watching faces.

"_Voyeur, get your aft here now!"_

"Starscream…" Optimus heard Ironhide growl under his breath, but his focus never wavered off the self-proclaimed Decepticon leader, his scratchy voice harsh with impatience, anger, and a hint of sadistic glee.

"_If __you__'__re __not __here __in-__"_ At that point, the femme had cut the transmission, the scanner sliding back into her arm as she kicks and takes off. The video pauses, and Optimus could feel the heated optics on him.

They had not seen nor heard from the snarky Decepticon for lunar cycles, it was unnerving that he was still around, even more so that he had gathered followers. They thought that the crazy Decepticon would be killed within his own ranks, but to have followers growing in numbers? And a femme at that. Femmes were uncommon in the universe, and those who were seen were protected or contained. Since the war had started, at one point, the darker of the two sides believed that it'd be a good strategy to steal or offline the enemy femmes. Since then, femmes have been taken in and protected dearly, for they and the AllSpark spell out the future of Cybertron and its people. Unfortunately, over the years femmes have either gone into hiding, been offline, or tried getting away from the whole war. Arcee and a few others are currently being protected on the Autobot island base after they returned with the rest of the femme armada. But the sight of a femme possibly being on the side of the Decepticons, who had tried to kill all neutral and opposing in the first place, was slightly unnerving. Were other femmes falling into the clutches of the Decepticons? Were they being tricked? Manipulated? Or was it purely by choice?

Turning to his Autobots, Optimus thought of it all grimly.

"Voyeur… I know that name." All optics turned to the security commander, waiting for him to continue. He looked up from his position, his hand cupping his chin in thought. "Voyeur has been in our records for several millennia, said to be giving Decepticons information of Autobot personnel and battle tactics. Optimus, you don't believe that Voyeur would have possession of our battle plans, would you?" He slid his optics over to Optimus, already knowing the answer.

"We can only hope not, Prowl."

"I wonder how long Screamer was going to say." Optimus looked at the medic, the older bot having his arms folded thoughtfully. "If Starscream is still lurking around, no doubt he still wants to get rid of us as soon as he can. Presuming that this 'Voyeur' has any information on us, it couldn't be told over communication channels in case of us listening in on them."

"Which means she's coming here." Ironhide growled, narrowing his optics dangerously as he imagined what the Decepticon helping knock-off would bring. Optimus looked to Prowl immediately, now knowing that he wasn't the only one thinking of the possibility.

"Keep a close eye on open channels and any incoming Cybertronians. If any Autobots are seen in the atmosphere, I want a double check. Contact any near Autobots to come right away- if there is going to be an invasion we need backup." When the security commander nodded and turned to the screen, Prime turned to the rest of his Autobots. "Be prepared to leave at any moment. If any Decepticon reinforcements come, we'll be ready." His comrades nodded and dismissed themselves when Optimus turned his blue optics back to the screen, looking at the face of his enemy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Yeah I 'll admit that this one isn't too great either but had to get the story going, eh? Still writing the next part since I jumped around quite a bit while writing this so I have to get it organized. Not too descriptive but I just ended up deleting some and leaving it plain. Hope you enjoy!**

**...**

**...**

**...**

_**DESTINATION: 40:8265;675**_

_**LOCATION TAKEN AT: 47:7279;597**_

_**ESTIMATED TIME TILL IMPACT: 18:08:10…9…8**_

Kup, Hotrod, and Bluestreak landed on Earth barely half an hour ago. They caught Prowl's urgent message while traveling in two sectors over in search of potential energon farming planets. But after traveling for the past few hundred years together, Kup was on the edge of frizzing out. In fact, the first thing he did when he landed, was kick both of the younger bots in the afts, making them fall back face-first into the dirt again. Muttering under his vents, he led the way to the Autobot base, being chased by the dirt covered bots.

When they arrived, they were greeted with irritation and apprehension. Kup placed his servos on his hips, digits curled loosely as he huffed.

"Well I fear that Ratchet will have to fix me my processor can't take all this excitement." He tilted his helm this way and that, mocking before dropping the half-aft act. "What a great welcoming party." He huffed sarcastically, looking to the left as their leader entered the room on heavy peds. Their leader looked worn out for a reason, and by what Kup had guessed, it was because of their new mysterious friend on this organic planet. Even so, the Prime managed to give them an appreciative smile.

"Welcome, friends. It has been a long time." The mechs stood at attention, straightening their backs and squaring their shoulders with small whirls and churrs.

"Prime, sir." Kup, being older and loose with his comrades, gave a friendly smile as he added "Good ta see ya Prime."

... ... ... ... ... ...

_**DESTINATION: 40:8265;675**_

_**LOCATION TAKEN AT: 44:7928;653**_

_**ESTIMATED TIME TILL IMPACT: 11:24:7…6…5**_

_I hate this planet and all that it's worth. Why doesn't Starscream just order for us to blow it up already? The filthy fleshlings have already soiled the path to victory with the help of those half-clocked Autobots. We should've dismantled each and every one of them while we had the chance back on Cybertron. But no, Megatron wanted to get his hands on his brother first and make him suffer. 'Oh I'm Lord Megatron! I shall defeat Optimus Prime only to get my aft handed to me in the end! I am so mighty and significant!' Bah._

Gigantic metal feet dodged scattered rocks, disturbing nature at its wake.

_And where is that glitch anyways. Thundercracker ordered that I would be in the area and the femme still has not shown up. With our luck she'll end up being one of those sleazy Autoscum and offline me at first sight. I bet the fragging good for nothing organic lovers already caught her. I knew we shouldn't have trusted her to get the information; scum like her can never be trusted. Decepticon or otherwise. Pit, I barely trust my own comrades. _

_They__would__stab__you__in__the__spark__if__it__meant__getting__on__the__good__side__of__our_ glorious_leader__without__a__second__of__thought.__Those__sleazebags__have__probably__already__planned__my__demise__and__this__is__just__a__way__to__get__back__at__me__for-_A metallic thud rang out, followed by a gear whirling strangled growl._Blast__it__all!__Why__do__there__have__to__be__rocks__everywhere__you__fragging__step!_Kicking the filthy organic matter away, and activating his cannon, he shot down a lone standing tree, glaring up at the sky that would soon show the fire ball of his target.

_I hate this planet!_

_... ... ... ..._

_**::Optimus- A lone Cybertronian has been detected on our sensors- its signal is Decepticon!::**_

_**... ... ... ... ... ...**_

_**DESTINATION: 40:8265;675**_

_**LOCATION TAKEN AT: 41:8209;671**_

_**ESTIMATED TIME TILL IMPACT: 1:17:4…3…2**_

_It's so peaceful in space… it seems like nothing could go wrong, nothing can hurt you. But when it all comes down in the end; it's the opposite._

_**I'm coming for you, Autobots.**_

_**...**_

The ship floated over the small blue planet, just outside of its gravitational pull. It was small and banged up, missing one wing that contained two boosters. The windshield was smashed, not shattered with the spider web pattern. It idled before a body was launched from its side slot, a femme.

Sunlight glinted off of silver armor as the being drifted through space. The journey was long and hazardous, sustaining damage from the previous pit stop the being had made, regretting it. They were on a roll, they had gotten arrogant. The being, curling up as frost decorated its shielding, metal scraping against metal as limbs warmed the energon in its cables, curling up as it prepared to breach the atmosphere of the little known planet below. Purple optics, lit a rusty rose color by the sun's light, and looked over the organic planet for the first time. It was made up of blues and greens, whites and browns. She had seen many planets, few she had landed on and explored. This one was beautiful.

A small beep warned her to prepare for entering of the atmosphere, reminding her to go into stasis. Instead of immediately doing as her computer had said so, she gazed at the planet for one long moment. A sense of foreboding pricked at her processor, an ominous whisper. She could feel her gears whirl at the thought of a challenge, one against life and death, even as her optics offline and her body curled up protectively, slipping into the welcoming depths of stasis.

Going into stasis meant that the Cybertronian, if anything went wrong, could do next to nothing about it. It saved the being panic, and allowed them to accept that if it was time for Primus to take them away, then they would not fight it. She had learned that on her own, though she still feared facing the legend of her people so soon.

A wall was breached as sparks showered; the ball of metal quickly flaring to life in hues of orange and red. It fell from the heavens and the darkness of space, sunlight reflecting off of its heating armor. Entering the Thermosphere, a wave of fire exploded all around it, making a tiny star-like light in the dawn of the day. Like a star that was not ready to sleep, persisting against the early morning rays. It was one of the further layers of the organic atmosphere, one that was less hazardous but just as so.

It hit the Mesosphere, leaving a trail of bronze in its wake. With a flare the meteor lit up blues and greens, unbearably hot for the being trapped inside the ball of fire. This was the layer of the atmosphere where meteors normally started to burn out, pieces of kibble knocked loose falling off so that it would drift in the unending depths of the universe thousands of years from now.

Shots of white light exploded from it as it blasted its way through the Stratosphere, cutting its way through the flimsy Earth ozone layer. It was hot, unbearably so. The being in stasis felt the discomfort, the burning sensation snaking its way to her spark, wrapping around it as if to say _'__There__there,__I__'__ll__protect__you__'_. A snake promising to protect its next lunch. Her spark pushed back, before coiling in on itself. It would keep itself cool, it will keep itself safe. Her internal cooling systems were overheating.

She hit the Troposphere, and everything went blank.

A shot of white enveloped the ball, blue sparking underneath. An explosion of light engulfed the sky, flickering on and off before the sonic boom sounded two seconds late. The being impacted into the ground, causing rocks and debris to fly as the femme tunneled into the surface of the earth. In the distance, a shadow of a city was just waking up, only early risers and late layers heard and saw the supposed meteorite. The city was beyond the crash site and could not see anything over the cliff. On one side of the green filled canyons, vehicles raced towards the site of impact, while on the other side in the air was a lone jet streaking towards the still smoldering earth.

Rocks slid from its home as the earth stopped shaking, sliding down the cliff side and passing over the hole the mechanical being from outer space had created. The jet made it to the crash site before the three vehicles could, immediately transforming and clinging to the cliff side just above the hole. He lowered himself down a ways, reaching a servo into the darkness of the hole, his fingertips barely grazing the form locked in stasis. A crack sounded out and he looked up in time to slip away, rocks crushed in his hand as he lands on the ground. He flailed and tried to get up, only to get pinned down when the rock slide swept over him. Trapped, he could do nothing but try and reach the stasis locked femme in the hole.

_**::Get up and answer me you glitch!::**_

His only response was hearing three engines near and pull up before the scraping of metal told of the Autobot retrieval team transforming into their bipedal forms. He cursed.

A grinding noise ensued, bringing his focus point back up to where he had been not ten earth minutes ago. It sounded of metal against rock, a scrapping sound of sorts.

"Get out here Decepticons!"

... ... ...

The door opened, revealing a disgruntled Hotshot with a pack held to his helm. Optics dimmed in agitation, he stalked forward into Prime's office, where the owner stood at his desk and the Director of Security and his Weapon's specialist turned to meet the soldier. Ironhide caught on quickly and crossed his arms, optics narrowing in on the battered bright soldier. Prowl, straight backed, studied the sheepish looking wounded bot with no sympathy, already able to tell what had happened from the look in the subordinate's eyes. Optimus looked up, ever patient as the younger bot shifted uneasily on his pedes.

"Hotshot, what is the mission report?" Even the Prime himself could see that it was unsuccessful, but every bit of information would help in the future. Possible Decepticon reinforcements that landed, how many had gone under the increasingly high radar when only one was detected in the atmosphere.

"The mission was unsuccessful." Hotshot straightened up, the dents in his sand covered armor glinting dully in the light. "There was only one Decepticon touchdown; another went to go get them." Optimus eyed his soldier's injuries, noting the smeared energon that had been sealed up and dried, most likely on the way back to the base.

"You were overpowered." He did not question it, merely stated it. Hotshot felt a blow to his pride. He had failed his Prime, and no doubt Prowl- Said officer's optics had narrowed, anger singeing under the cool exterior. But it was the Weapon's Specialist who spoke, fists clenched, optics aflame in scorn.

"And you had no thoughts of calling in reinforcements?" He hissed. Hotshot held up his servers, but stood his ground, a frown on his faceplates.

"Ironhide, stand-"

"Optimus." The Security officer took the attention again, blazing optics flicking to their leader for a tense moment. "The Decepticon contained vital information. I agree with Ironhide." His optics slid over to rest upon the outnumbered subordinate. "You should have informed us at the very beginning that you were losing- you should have contacted us. And now, vital information of the Autobots, and this planet, can freely be spoken by said Decepticon thanks to your team."


	4. Chapter 4

**Authors Note: Hey guys- or, well , one person. Just something to keep the ball rolling, a short chapter to say "hey I'm still here" and that crap. Been obsessed with Vin Diesel lately, and I started a story about Riddick... hee. There's also a poetry contest that I plan on entering, so wish me luck. My very best friend helped me on it and made it a rap, so that covers the 'creative' part haha. Only thing I need now is a title... *sigh* I suck at titles. As you can tell. But poems are different, especially since this is about a person and not something I made up (mostly). Grand prize is 1k! Just entered it, very nervous. But eh, if we don't win, who cares it was fun. If we do win... hey, big bucks right there, eh? :P**

Patrol was hated and well liked at times. In times after action upon action, patrol was like dirt work. But in times of boredom and desperation, patrol was necessary to prevent from going insane. Though it was illogical to go insane, by humans standards it seemed to be a common thing. Insanity from boredom. Insanity from lectures. Insanity from family. Insanity came in various ways to humans, but as Ratchet pointed out, all of those versions of insanity were just small bits of what they deemed as torture. In Cybertronian standards, insanity came from various ways, but much more reasonable than human ways. A seeker can turn insane if enclosed in closed spaces or grounded for a long time, while grounders can go insane by any major battle experiences. Though it was not common, a death of a close comrade can drive a young bot along the wrong path. But the most common is losing a sparkmate, which was most common among their ranks. He knew that Optimus had nearly driven himself offline at the stretched bond he had with his sparkmate, Elita-1, and was visibly better when the femmes had been contacted.

Bluestreak himself didn't have a bondmate or a sparkmate, he had been with a couple of bots but none of which were serious enough with the war going on. To those who could overcome their fear of being with someone in a time such as this, they were lucky. Those of which could not stand the thought of losing a mate in the war drove themselves away from the thought. For Bluestreak, he was scared of the thought of loss, yes, but his door was still open, even if only a crack. And when he had split off from his squad to patrol uptown, he was pleasantly surprised to find that he was right to keep the option open and not close himself off to the ideas. For not soon after an hour's worth of looking, he had caught the faintest of traces of a Cybertronian. The signal was encrypted, neither telling of Autobot nor Decepticon, but it made himself excited enough that he went against human laws and raced towards the Cybertronian.

Well, he found them. But he didn't really know what to do with them once found. Excitement ran through his energon cables, making them tremble as caution screamed in his processor. All the noise, all the lack of communication on their open Autobot channels, everything; vanished. Faded into the background, he was free to stare in silence. He had found them in the street, transformed and ready to fight, when they both froze. Complete strangers, frozen in the chaos created by the humans themselves, running everywhere and screaming. He didn't know that the bot was only standing still because he was.

Lotus purple burned into iceberg blue, melting through the chills of the ice and burrowing deep into the arctic tundra, though the glass and metals to surround the pulse of a life source. Gears whirled, circuits zapped while attempting to connect to his CPU, unyielding to those eyes that stabbed his. Energon rushed through his cables, zipping along through his unit, enabling him to feel each pulse from his very core, his spark alive in his chassis.

For a long time neither being moved, unlike the organics on this planet they felt no need to move every few seconds, allowing them to become as still as statues for stealth missions; invisible to enemy eyes; completely seen to the one standing, half crouched in the street, across from him.

Her arms, sleek with the lines separating from one piece of armor from another, originally poised in a defense position, now curved in hesitance. Legs, bipedal and half crouched, one leg relaxed as it is straightened out, the other bent underneath her as she settles on the prongs of her toes. Two small wheels rest together on one foot, a bigger one on the other, creating her ankles as two prongs making up balanced toes, a single prong making her heel on either foot. Small little jets surrounded on her ankles, half covering the wheels on her ankles.

Folded wings sprouted from her back, two shorter ones attached below, making a sharp shape of an organic dragonfly of sorts. The ones on the upper part of her back were large, a plane of some sorts, while a large orb rested on her left shoulder, retractable from what it looked like. Missiles rested on top of either shoulder, aimed ahead if online. Small capsules of sorts were attached to her wrists and on the outer workings of her forearms. Her hands, small and delicate, poised a relax grip. Something sprouted on her right shoulder, on the outer part and stuck out, but it was unrecognizable. On her stomach, behind the curves of alien metal, settled a dark orb in her abdomen. A lens peeked out from the dark curtains, staring blankly as it recorded everything the femme saw.

A smooth helm surrounded those lotus flower colors of optics, two gray prongs sprouting from the middle of her forehead and rapping back around her head on top. Smaller gray markings carved her jaw line and cheeks. Two lines were drawn on her cheeks, branching down from her eyes and disappearing under her jaw. A smooth, windowless chassis carved on her upper body. Gray patterned under the ghostly white armor that shown dully in the afternoon lights, something not to be shined on, made to not cause more unnecessary attention than it should.

For moments Bluestreak could only stop and stare. Not only was a femme a rarity, what was she doing on Earth? Had she gotten Prime's call as well?

The blue Autobot felt his cables relax, tense from surprise, and loosely stood in his spot as an unnamed feeling spread in his veins. He felt his guard dropping, his CPU still not computing.

Just as his processor started working, a mental restart, so did the femme. In a flash metal scraped on asphalt, quick and hard enough to leave a scuff on the pavement, while it only took seconds for the femme was halfway down the block. With a jolt, Bluestreak raced after her, shouting for her to stop. Humans, those curious enough to stay after others ran away from the scene screaming at the top of their lungs, scattered before the two giant robotic beings, scampering back to safety as the two Cybertronian bots ran through the streets.

"Wait! Get back here!" She darted around the corner, his pedes threatening to slip under him as he followed just as sharp, the thrill of catching up to the femme keeping his legs moving. "Stop!" He found himself not wanting her to, though, the thrill of the chase competing with the curiosity and the want to know who this femme was.

Closer, he was getting closer. Why was the femme here? Why was she running? Was it him she was running from? He didn't risk the glance over his shoulder, for his fingertips were nanoseconds from brushing her wings.

The small bump was a trigger, though, as the femme whirled around, causing the Autobot to stumble from the turn of events, and have rockets launched from her wrists. They connected, blowing the bot away, smoke filling the air. Bluestreak's vents clogged, making him push the gunk out with human like coughs. Optics narrowed as the smoke clears, he discovers himself standing alone on the city street.


End file.
